Missing
by Takada Saiko
Summary: A rash of missing children spring up throughout Gotham and Batman is trying to uncover the culprit. Can a young Robin help him by going undercover to do a little snooping where no adult can go?


A/N: This is my first fanfic of this genre… in years. I can't tell you how long it's been, and I've never published anything of this genre to the best of my memory, so you are my test to tell me if I'm any good at it. This idea came from a reoccurring dream I had, if it can be called that. I fought it all night and then kept getting sucked back into it this morning. I've taken some liberties to make it work for this story, but all and all, it's from my strange dream. Let me know if you like it.

TS

Chapter One

Children had been disappearing. That was simple enough, though something that made him uneasy. Not that the disappearance of children wasn't making the whole city uneasy. They – the missing children - had been between the ages six and around fourteen or fifteen. They were male and female, no particulars. The numbers of either gender seemed random, even to the computers. The Cray computer was yet to even come up with a reasonable explanation. Some were tall, some short, blond, burnet, and even redheads. The kidnapper did not seem partial. Their eyes were every shade, from the darkest blacks to the iciest blues. There was nothing that remotely suggested the kidnapper cared one way or the other of the racial history of the children that he or she was taking.

"The children are walking away from their homes in the dead of night. There is no sign of forced entry, simple exit," Gotham City Police Commissioner Jim Gordon was explaining, shifting through the papers once more. He removed his glasses, massaged the bridge of his nose, and set the glasses down on his desk next to the pile of paperwork, all in a habit that showed his growing agitation with the seemingly mixed up case.

"Homes?" a deep voice prodded.

Gordon looked up, shaking his head. "Besides being _in_ Gotham and the surrounding area, no pattern. The disappearances haven't reached as far as Blüdhaven or Metropolis, but we've run it through every computer system we have, and if there was one it should have caught it."

"Computers make errors," the voice rumbled.

"And, of course, that's why we called you in." Jim stood, staring intently at the caped man before him. Had there been a day that he did not trust him? Maybe in the beginning. Was there ever a day when he was sure that this self-proclaimed "Batman" belonged in Arkham as much or more than those that he put there? No, surely not. The good commissioner might even call this dark man before him "friend." He trusted the man more than the majority of his men, and that was something.

"I'll look into it," the taller man promised, laying one gloved hand on the papers.

"Thank you," Gordon breathed. He looked down, closing his eyes, and allowed some of the stress to roll off his shoulders. "I can't help but think of Barbra with all… of… this…" He glanced around at the last of his statement. Gone. He had to get him to stop doing that.

--

"If you had told me you were going, I could have gone," a young voice greeted him as the hatch to the Batmobile pulled back and the Dark Knight leapt from it. Dick Grayson stood, blue eyes wide with innocents that he had not quite grown out of yet, and his jacket pulled around him. The air had turned cold only a month before and that made the cave especially chilly.

"I don't want you involved in this one," Batman answered sternly as he removed his mask and was instantly transformed back into the boy's foster father.

"All because I'm in the age limit," Dick grumbled. He watched Bruce for a reaction and then shook his head. "I'm not a kid anymore." He'd had to call the last bit out to him because his mentor had disappeared behind a wall, fully transforming himself back into his public self.

"In a way, no," Bruce answered aloud, voice disembodied. He didn't care to add how very proud he was of how the boy had matured in the past four years that he had spent under both Bruce Wayne and the Batman. Dick Grayson, orphaned at nine years old had been unofficially adopted by the billionaire playboy as a charity act to the public, but to the father and son pair, it was obvious how much they truly had in common. Bruce had given the boy a way to channel his anger, hurt, and grief. He'd saved his life. He would not cost it now.

"There's a 'but' in your voice, Bruce," Dick's voice interrupted his mentor's thoughts.

A smile perked his lips. Observant child. "I'm just not comfortable with it." He ran his large hands through his hair, trying to smooth everything into place after his hasty change. His eyes caught his ward's though his lips did not move again.

"And that's all I get, isn't it?"

"Smart kid," Bruce answered him as he ruffled the already wild black hair. He put his arm around the much smaller boy's shoulder and they walked in that way up the stairs that led to Wayne Manor. Alfred met them at the entrance, greeting them as only he could.

"Productive night, sir?"

"Not overly, Alfred. I'm afraid that the children's disappearances have not lessoned in the past few weeks."

"How long _has _it been going on?" Dick asked, eyes keen and yearning for as much of the case as he could get.

Bruce struggled not to frown. He had to trust the boy to do what he said, even if his curiosity was overwhelming. "Three weeks now. Gotham Police thought they had it covered until late last week when Gordon finally convinced them to call Batman in on the case."

"Just not Robin," Dick grumbled.

"Listen here," Bruce said, a stern look in his eyes as he watched his ward carefully, gauging each movement to see if what he was about to say was worth it. "This is what I will do for you, chum: tomorrow night while I'm out – and of course, after you finish all your homework if it is still before ten o'clock – you can have access to the files and look them over. It will be all at home work, no field, do you understand me?"

"But I can at least give it a go?" Dick asked, blue eyes lighting up as if Christmas had just arrived.

"Yes, if you promise not to pester me anymore about it, and you go right now to finish your homework and go on to bed."

"My homework's been done, Bruce," his ward said proudly.

The billionaire cocked an eyebrow. He had reason to be proud of this boy. "Good job, chum," he praised, patting the boy on the shoulder. "Why don't you go on up and hit the sack then? You'll have a busy night tomorrow."

"If I have some headway, can I have an extension to ten?"

"Maybe. We'll see how it goes."

Dick nodded enthusiastically, taking off towards the stairs and flying up them three by three. Bruce turned to look at Alfred, his dark blue eyes looking exhausted. "I don't want him involved in this one."

"Too many disappearances."

"Yes, and what better would this psycho want but to pause the Batman off his case because of his missing junior sidekick?"

"I think he's rather grown past the 'junior' status, if I might say so, sir," Alfred murmured.

Wayne blinked, his tired mind processing the information. The last few weeks had been hell on him. The only reason Jim had not called him in earlier on this particular case was that Gotham had been turned upside down only a month before. With the simultaneous escape of the Joker, Scarecrow, the Riddler, Catwoman, and Two Face from Arkham Asylum, Batman had been busier than usual. Robin had accompanied him more nights than he'd have wished. The boy was doing well in school, but how long would that last when his strict ten o'clock curfew suddenly wasn't so strict. None of Gotham's most violent psychopaths cared about a thirteen-year-old boy's bedtime. They cared about putting a bullet through said thirteen-year-old.

"You're right about that," Bruce finally said, glancing back at his old friend. "Tell me, Alfred, did the years fly by with me as they are with Dick?"

A smile perked the English gentleman's lips. "Only too quickly, Master Bruce," he answered. "Now, might I suggest that you go and lie down for a bit? How long has it been since you slept?"

Bruce started counting back and when he reached seventy hours, he stopped, shaking his head. "Don't want to think about it," he grumbled, shoulders slumping.

"Rest, Master Bruce. You will do Gotham no good if you are ill because of neglect."

Wayne nodded and without a word started for the stairs. He took them one at a time, unlike his young protégé, and stopped by the room he had held as a small child. He laid one hand against the closed door and the other against the knob. He turned it slowly, praying that it was kept in pristine condition as everything else in the manor was. The door opened without a sound and father peeked in at son.

Dick was curled up on the bed that looked far too large for his small frame. The sheets swallowed him and he was wrapped up in blankets and hugging the pillow to his chest rather than resting his head on it. Bruce was proud of him, though Alfred consistently had to remind him to show it. This child had come so far so fast from what he could have become after his parents' murder.

Jim had been worried about Barbara, Bruce reminded himself as he found himself standing over his sleeping ward. He felt the same fear for Dick.

The boy stirred, bright eyes fluttering open. "Bruce? S'mething wrong?" he slurred, voice showing his exhaustion.

"No, chum," Bruce assured him.

"You thinkin' 'bout those missing kids?"

Even mostly asleep the boy seemed to be able to read his mind and it unhinged the great Batman. It warmed Bruce Wayne's icy heart. "Yeah, partner, I am."

"We'll get 'im," Dick promised, nestling his way back down into the bed. "Batman 'n' Robin."

"Always," Bruce answered the youngster. "Sleep well, chum."

"You too, Bruce." And that was it. Dick was sound asleep after those words passed his lips. His mentor shook his head and turned to leave. They would get whoever was doing this and they would find those missing children. He had the promise of the most honest youth he'd ever met in his life.

--

Alfred picked him up at three o'clock sharp from school. It was a daily routine. Some days Bruce would have time to be home early from the office, but the last couple of weeks had been brutal on him. Dick didn't complain, but he missed his foster father horribly.

"You seem to be in quite a hurry today, young sir," Alfred said as Dick all but threw his book back into the car and piled in after it.

"You remember what Bruce promised I could do tonight if I could get my work done early enough," the former Flying Grayson answered excitedly. "I'm not going to waste any time."

Dick continued to chatter on as Alfred drove. He rambled about school, the past month's work, how excited he was to be able to go out each night with his senior partner, and the fact that the next year of school he'd finally be in high school.

"As that is true, Master Dick, what made you bring it up?" Alfred asked carefully, pulling off the main road to follow the little path that led to the manor. He had to wait on the mailman who was slipping a fairly large amount of mail into the box outside the gates.

"I'll get it!" Dick announced and bounded out of the car. He rushed up to the aging man and offered to take the mail off his hands before putting it into the box. "Thank you very much!" the youth called as he waved at their regular mailman and slipped back into the car. "Everything changes when you get into high school," Dick continued as he shuffled through the mail. "Bruce may actually let me stay out longer, I'll be seen as more of an adult, and maybe Babs will even give me a second glance."

"Miss Gordon, sir?" Alfred asked, astonished.

Dick's cheeks turned rosy as he hurried himself with looking through the mail. He could feel Alfred's eyes on him as the car slowed to a stop and the engine purred to a stop. The young acrobat suddenly lost interest in the fact that his sergeant grandfather was watching him closely when his eyes trained on one piece of mail. "Can I open this, Al?"

"What is it, young sir?"

"Looks like junk mail. Advertisement for something."

"I'm sure Master Bruce won't mind. If it is something important, make sure not to lose any piece of it." He stepped out of the car and opened the door for the captivated Dick. "Young sir?"

"I'm coming," the Romani boy answered, stepping out of the car. His book bag was draped over one shoulder, the mail collected in one arm, and his only free hand holding the loan envelope. He wanted to open it inside the safety of Wayne Manor's walls. Something told him that was the right thing to do. He hurried inside.

"Young sir, I have some errands to run. I will call Miss Gordon over to keep an eye on… the house," Alfred explained to Dick. The boy loathed Barbara being referred to as his babysitter. He was thirteen, after all, and he never felt as if he should have had one in the first place.

"'Kay, Al," the boy responded, pulling the edges of the letter open. His nimble fingers worked their way into the envelope, pulling from it several folded papers. They wrapped around each other, Bruce's name written on the front. Dick carefully pulled them apart and found the letter of explination:

_Dear Mr. Wayne,_

_Margaret Showels would like to invite your son to her lovely children's resort located just outside the Gotham City lines. She promises an educational stay during as much of the Christmas holidays as you wish…_

Dick skimmed the paper quickly. It was plain to see what it was: a place for the wealthy of Gotham to store their kids during the time when they were not in school. Glancing at the details of the papers the young detective saw that this Margaret Showels offered after school care as well, keeping the children as late as midnight if need be. There were prices and fees on yet another page, a map and list of activities, and a picture of the strangest woman that Dick had ever seen in his life on the last page of a small pamphlet.

"So whatcha doin', short pants?" Barbara Gordon's friendly voice sounded behind him.

Dick whirled around, eyes wide in surprise. He'd vaguely heard Alfred say he was calling her and that she would be coming over, but he hadn't paid any mind to the time. He checked the clock on the wall. He had another two hours before Bruce even left the office. Then he'd come home, have dinner with Dick and go out to battle the villains of the night, but he had two hours to try and figure something out. He wanted to prove, beyond everything, that Batman could trust Robin on this case. It didn't matter if he were the same age as those children that were disappearing. He was Robin, the Boy Wonder, not some little snot that could be caught up in a simple trap. He was _not_ Robin, the Boy Hostage.

"I think it has something to do with the disappearing kids," Dick murmured, still looking closely at it.

"Any proof, Boy Wonder?" Barbara asked, peeking over his shoulder to see what the pamphlet was.

"Just a gut feeling, you know?" he asked, glancing up at her and she nodded. "I was about to go run it through the Cray computer."

A grin spread across Barbara's face. "So, does Robin need a little help from Batgirl?"

"I'm accessing the case files to match up if each of these kids went to Ms. Showels' place. There'd be no reason for the police to try to match that particular fact because it's so minute, but if it matches, it's worth something, right?"

"Definitely," Barbara agreed.

The two teens watched as the oversized computer ran through every databank it was linked to. It seemed to take an eternity. Dick glanced at the clock nervously.

"What's the matter?"

"Bruce made me promise to get my homework done before I took a look at the case," Dick murmured, glancing around sheepishly.

"Dick! Why didn't you tell me that? I'm supposed to be responsible for you this evening until they get back! You're butt's not going to be the only one that gets busted, short pants!"

"Hey! It's not like I can focus with it possibly staring me right in the… face…" Dick trailed off as the computer beeped several times. "I was right! Each one of the kids that disappeared spent time at this place! Maybe there's a connection!"

"Good job, Robin. Batgirl," a voice boomed throughout the cave. Bruce apparently left work early.

The two teens turned, both turning red in the face. Dick moved quickly from the computer, allowing his mentor to look. Batman, peering through the visage of Bruce Wayne, glanced over the information and nodded. "Good job, chum, but I find it hard to believe…"

"I'm sorry, Bruce! Honest! I just saw it in the mail and-"

"Alfred warned me before we arrived that you might have your nose in it still. Go start your homework, Dick. I'll take this information to your father tonight, Barbara. Thank you both."

"No problem," Barbara answered with a grin, obviously thrilled that Dick had received no tongue lashing for avoiding his homework.

"Oh, and Dick?" Bruce called after his ward, causing the boy to turn around. "You are grounded from any activities other than school and duty."

Dick looked at his shoes, a sad look crossing his features, but then he perked. "But… Bruce? I don't do a whole lot outside of school and patrol, and patrol is off limits while this guy is kidnapping-"

"Just go do your homework," Bruce growled, sending the young teen scrambling. He watched the two youths race up the steps, shaking his head. Dick shouldn't be slacking on his school work in order to do research for him, but he knew that it had been eating at the boy. Try as he might, he couldn't hold it against him. It was his own fault.

"Amazing skills, that boy," Batman murmured as he moved to the chamber he kept his suit in. Robin truly was becoming a very talented detective. He would take the information found to Commissioner Gordon that night, as promised, but he knew it would be difficult to pin anything without someone on the inside. That was the part he dreaded.

TBC

TS

--

A/N: So how was it? I want honesty please. Oh, and I'm absolutely addicted to reviews, so if you would be so kind.


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